


Love Languages

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Boot Worship, Established Relationship, Financial Domination, M/M, Sugar Baby, Sugar Daddy, Trampling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 04:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11028546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: We all have different love languages. Mark shares his.





	Love Languages

**Author's Note:**

> Edited by the ever lovely Angel! 
> 
> Written as a trade with my darling squish. <3

It took Jack a while to realize that Mark's thing was... well, a thing.

First it was the gifts.

Mark was a gift giver, and that was fine - Jack had even read up on that shit - people who had different "love languages" or whatever, and Mark's was gift giving. 

That made sense.

Anyway, Jack had done some weird shit to impress the people that he had crushes on - before he'd moved to California, he'd stayed up into the gross hours of the morning, mumbling through videos.

So finding out that Mark had a crush on him explained some things. 

But then the two of them moved in together, and it got... weird.

 

* * * 

"I made you dinner," said Mark, and he was smiling at Jack, a little nervous, but clearly excited.

Jack sat down, scooting his chair in. 

"Yeah? What'd you make?"

"Roast beast!"

"... what kind of beast?"

"A cow," said Mark, setting the big hunk of roast beef out on the table.

It was surrounded by veg, and it was steaming. 

Chica was crowding against Jack's leg, her head on his knee, staring up at him hopefully.

"What, the whole cow? Jesus, that thing is _huge_!" 

Mark laughed, and he cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed.

"I, uh, I wanted to make you a nice dinner," said Mark. 

"Well, you've certainly done that," said Jack. "Shit, I'll do the dishes, maybe clean the kitchen...."

"No," Mark said quickly. "No, this is my gift to you."

"Well, alright," said Jack, and he smiled at Mark, a little uncertain. 

Mark was _beaming_ back at him. 

There was something going on under the surface, and Jack wasn't entirely sure he understood what it was.

But it was there. 

But for now... well, Mark was happy, and if Mark was happy, Jack was happy, so there was nothing to worry about.

He dug into the food on his plate, and he smiled at the man sitting across from him, who was still beaming.

* * * 

Things progressed.

Things progressed to the point that they were messing around. 

Full on messing around too - making out on the couch, pulling on clothing, the occasional awkward handy, and a lot of embarrassing declarative statements. 

It wasn't until Jack was about to give Mark his first blowjob that Mark began to babble.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Mark moaned, as Jack kissed up and down his shaft, his fingers tangling in the green hair. "Fuck, Jack, you're so amazing, holy fuck, oh, shit, you're so good, you're so wonderful, spend my money and suck my cock...."

Jack paused, pulling back and looking up at Mark with one eyebrow up.

"What?"

"What what?" Mark blinked down at him, clearly dozy.

Jack's lips were swollen, and his lips were wet from all the drool that came from sucking cock. 

"Spend your money?"

"... oh." 

Mark was blushing, dark red. 

"I... I mean...."

"Do you think you need to pay for me to like you or something?"

Was that anger rising up in Jack's chest?

Huh.

That wasn't the reaction he would have thought he'd have - go figure.

"No, no, nothing like that," Mark said quickly. 

Jack sat back on his heels, and he crossed his arms.

"So what's it like?"

Mark groaned like he was in pain, covering his face with both hands. He looked more embarrassed than when he had admitted to Jack that he had a crush on him. 

"Okay," said Mark. "So this is, like, a weird fetish of mine. I know it's -"

"Do you have a fetish, for, like, pretending someone is a sex worker?" 

Jack wasn't sure how he felt about doing that kinda thing, but, well... he'd done weirder shit with partners.

At least this was pretty neat, and wouldn't make much of a mess. 

"No," said Mark. "It's... it's weirder than that."

Jack raised an eyebrow.

"I like... I like the idea of... of making people happy. By giving them gifts, and now that I've got all of this money, I keep having fantasies of, like, having someone who will just, like, take my debit card and go to town." 

"Huh," said Jack. 

"... is this a deal breaker?" Mark's dick had gone down, and he looked genuinely... anxious.

"No, no," Jack said, "it's just... not what I expected."

"What did you expect?" 

"I dunno. Do we ever know what to expect with other people's fetishes?"

"Well, no," said Mark. "But still."

"How about, while I blow you, you tell me what you want me to do?"

"What, with my money? Or in general?"

"In general."

"I could do that," said Mark, and he licked his lips. "Sorry, I kinda... lost the boner."

"I'm pretty sure I can get it back up," Jack said, and he leaned forward, taking the head of Mark's cock into his mouth and sucking on it, stroking along the slit with the flat of his tongue. 

"Oh, fuck, Jack, yes, please, keep sucking my cock, please...." Mark’s hands were resting on top of Jack's head, and his cock was hot and thick in Jack's mouth. 

Jack began to bob his head, jerking off the bits of cock that didn't fit in his mouth. 

He pulled back, licking the head of Mark's cock, and he began to lick harder, as Mark writhed under him, more pre dripping down the shaft, drooling down his chin. 

"There we go," said Mark. "There... we... go...."

Jack fastened his mouth on to the shaft of Mark's cock, humming, and he was squirming, his own cock hard.

"I want you to... use me," Mark mumbled, and he was still holding on to Jack's hair. 

Jack pulled off of Mark's cock, kissing along the shaft of it. 

"Use you?"

"Yeah," said Mark, and he cleared his throat. "I... want you to use my money."

"How?"

"What do you mean, how?" Mark looked momentarily confused.

"Like... do you want me to spend it all frivolously, or do you want me to buy something helpful?" 

"... just, like, spend it," said Mark, clearly baffled. "Why would I be the one who chose what you did with it?"

"I mean," said Jack, "it's your money."

"It stops being my money when I give it to you," said Mark.

"Okay, so what if I just put it in an account and start saving it?"

Mark pouted.

"That's not in the spirit of the thing," he said. 

Jack sighed, and he took Mark's cock back into his mouth, beginning to bob his head again. 

Mark kept moaning, his hands still in Jack's hair, and he kept humping into Jack's mouth, as Jack tried not to gag, listening to all of the filthy words that Mark was muttering. 

“Spend my money, suck my cock, fuck, oh my god, Jack, fuck, you feel so _good_ , I can’t get… oh my god… fuck… please!”

“You want me to spend your money, Mark?” Jack licked up along Mark’s shaft, and he wrapped his lips around the head again, and he began to suck harder, hollowing his cheeks out as Mark pushed his dick in deeper, until Jack was almost gagging, his hand forcefully pressed against Mark’s belly to keep Mark’s cock from going too far down his throat.

“Milk… me dry,” Mark groaned, and he came in a rush of arousal and wetness, right down Jack’s throat.

Jack pulled back, coughing, but he kept pumping Mark’s cock, more cum splashing across his face, and more of it dripped down his face, until Mark was flopping back, panting heavily. 

“Holy shit,” said Mark, and he laughed, a little unsteadily. 

“You liked that?” Jack wiped the cum off of his face with his shirt, wrinkled his nose, and pulled the shirt off. 

His own cock was still hard.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” said Mark. “Would you really… wanna spend my money?”

“I mean, sure,” said Jack. “As long as you’d be okay with me, you know, spending your money.”

“I’d be okay with it,” said Mark. 

“Okay,” said Jack, and he climbed onto the couch, his legs a bit unsteady. “You wanna suck me off?”

“Sure,” said Mark. “I’ve never had a weiner in my mouth before!”

“... you did _not_ just call it a weiner,” Jack groaned, flopping back into the arm of the couch, his back supported by the pillows. 

“I totally did,” said Mark, and he put on his most seductive voice. “I’m going to lean forward, and I’m gonna wrap my lips around the head of your thick, meaty, uncut… weiner.”

Jack was laughing, laughing so hard he was going to fall off of the couch, so hard he couldn’t breathe, and Mark was grinning at him over the swell of his stomach.

“Oh my god, Mark, you… aren’t allowed to do that,” Jack stuttered, and he was still cackling, as Mark shoved his skinny jeans open and fished his dick out. 

“I’m not allowed to talk about how I can’t wait to get mouth on your thick, juicy weiner? How I just want it in my mouth, right now?” 

Mark was leaning close enough that his breath was giving Jack little goosebumps, as it ghosting across the tip of Jack’s cock, over his foreskin. 

“Tell me how you’re gonna spend my money,” Mark said, and then he took Jack’s cock into his mouth, pushing back Jack’s foreskin so that he could suck on the head.

Jack moaned, still holding on to Mark’s hair, and he humped forward, tugging.

His mind was drawing a blank.

“I’m… I’m gonna… I’m gonna get a new rice cooker,” Jack said. 

Mark pulled off of Jack’s cock, giving him a Look.

“Could you go… sexier?” He blushed, looking to the side. “Or… more expensive.”

“Right,” said Jack, and he tried to think sexy. “I’m gonna buy… new boots.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. 

“They’re sexy boots,” Jack said quickly. “Super sexy. Oh, fuck, Mark, do that again….” He was leaning back, panting, open mouthed, letting go of Mark’s head to pull on his own hair. “Oh, fuck, Mark, oh… no, wait, pull it… yes, like _that_ , holy fuck.”

He paused, trying to think of expensive things, sexy things.

“I’m gonna get… uh… solid gold cock ring,” Jack hazarded. “With your money. Your YouTube money.” 

Mark moaned, and he surged forward, taking in more of Jack’s cock, sucking on it harder, and holy fuck, that was good, it was hot, it was wet, it was everything that Jack wanted in life, provided that “life” meant “on his dick”. 

“I’m gonna put it on, the solid gold cock ring,” Jack said, starting to get into it, as Mark fucked his face onto Jack’s cock. “And I’m gonna… I’m gonna fuck you, I’m gonna fuck you using lambskin condoms, the fifty dollar ones, and then I’m gonna cum in it, and I… I… I’m… fuck, I’m really close, Mark!”

“Please don’t stop,” Mark begged, and he stared up at Jack with those big brown eyes of his, grinding his spent cock against the couch cushions. 

Jack was about to cum, and he just… babbled.

“Gonna get… mint condition toys, in box, and then I’m gonna get a diamond encrusted dildo, and... oh, _fuck_ , Mark, oh my god….”

He came down Mark’s throat, and Mark swallowed it down easily - Jack was beginning to suspect that the other man had a bit more experience with it than Jack did, which might be a conversation for a later time. 

“But what kinda mint toys?” Mark had spit drooling down his chin, and a bit of cum on the corner of his mouth.

It was gross, and utterly endearing.

“I dunno. Transformers? Or, oo, no, those old Spiderman action figures!”

“Which ones?” 

“I’ll show you,” Jack mumbled, “just… later.” He opened his arms up wide, patting his chest. “Come cuddle me?”

“A diamond encrusted dildo would _suck,_ ” Mark mumbled, putting his head on Jack’s chest, his fluffy hair tickling Jack’s chin.

Jack snickered, wrapping his arms around Mark and kissing the top of his head. 

“I dunno,” Jack said. “Maybe you could, like, embed it in resin or something? Like how they do the glittery stuff in old My Little Ponies.”

“How do you know about old My Little Ponies?”

“I’ve got two sisters,” Jack said, his voice defensive. “There were a lot of them just kinda… milling around the place.”

“Herds?”

“Herds and herds,” Jack mumbled, and he yawned.

He always needed a bit of a nap after an orgasm. He stretched like an old cat, and then he relaxed, his eyes drifting shut. 

“Thanks,” Mark mumbled.

“Hmm?”

“For… listening, and humoring me,” Mark said.

“Any time,” said Jack. 

* * * 

About a week later, Mark flopped onto the couch next to Jack, then wriggled, so that his head was on Jack’s lap, heavy on Jack’s thigh.

“Hi to you too,” said Jack, and he laughed, ruffling Mark’s hair. 

Mark was a tad needy in his affection.

He had been suggesting Jack buy stuff - on his dime, of course - all week, and Jack had taken him up on it now and then.

After Mark had bought Jack’s takeout dinner, he had gotten on his knees and sucked Jack off, moaning the whole time.

Jack had cum right before the doorbell had rung, and Mark had barely opened the door, just grabbed the bag, then closed the door, flopping back against the door with a guilty expression, his cock still hard.

Jack had blown him, right there at the door, and Mark had cum like a fountain. 

But now it was now, and Jack was debating what he wanted to do for dinner. 

“Let’s order in,” Mark said, “my treat.”

His voice wasn’t even trembling. 

Although when Jack glanced down, he saw the beginnings of an erection in Mark’s lap. 

“What are you in the mood for?”

“There’s that new place,” Mark said casually. “The Ethiopian one.”

“Yeah?”

That place was pricey, but the food looked good, from what Jack had seen of it.

“Sounds good,” said Jack, keeping his voice as casual as possible.

All of this stuff - this money stuff - felt… odd.

It infused their day to day interactions with something sexual, sort of.

A kind of energy that Jack had absolutely no experience with. 

But he was taking it, a day at a time, and it was working, more or less.

“I, uh… I wanna do a thing,” Mark said, and he cleared his throat.

“What kinda thing?”

“Can I put my card on your phone?”

“... is that legal?”

“Yeah,” said Mark, staring up at Jack, upside down. “I’d let you carry my card if I could, but it’s not really an option, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Jack agreed, and he gave Mark his phone. “Here. You can fiddle with it and figure it out.”

“You sure? It’s your phone,” said Mark. “I know it’s got personal stuff in it.”

“Yeah, like your fucking debit card number isn’t personal stuff,” Jack grumbled, and he ran his fingers through Mark’s hair, as the tapping of the keyboard filled up the small room.

Chica was lying on the rug beside them, flat on her back, all four paws in the air. 

Jack wanted to pet her with his foot, although she always acted so offended when he did that.

That was, admittedly, part of the reason why he did it. Few things are as funny as an offended golden retriever.

“Can you tell me when you use my card for stuff?” Mark rolled onto his side, and his face was in Jack’s belly.

“Yeah, sure,” Jack said, running a hand down Mark’s chest, then moving his hand up, to trace along Mark’s jaw line, Mark’s stubble rough against his fingertip.

They sat like that in silence for a bit, Jack relaxing into the couch, Mark almost dozing in Jack’s lap, Jack’s phone on the back of the couch. 

“Thanks for being cool with… all of this,” Mark said at last, and he pressed his face into Jack’s belly, his stubble rough through the thin fabric of Jack’s t-shirt. 

“It’s not that bad,” said Jack. “But please let me get dinner tomorrow night.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah,” said Jack. “I can cook, if you’d like.”

“What would you wanna cook?” 

“I could make chili,” Jack suggested. “Chili and baked potatoes?”

“That sounds pretty heavenly,” Mark admitted. 

“I can cook pretty well,” said Jack. “And you keep treating me, I wanna treat you.”

“If you’re absolutely sure,” said Mark, and he snuggled into Jack’s belly, kissing him right over the navel.

Jack resisted the urge to squeal like he’d been poked with a pin, and he wriggled, giggling in spite of himself. 

“You’re such a weirdo,” Mark said, and he yawned.

“You’re a big of a sack of potatoes today,” Jack said, still stroking Mark’s hair.

“I’m s-s-sorry,” Mark said, yawning, and he rolled back onto his back, his eyes drifting shut slowly. “I was up early, working on that one thing, and then I played that stupid dancing game….”

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself?” Jack brushed the hair off of Jack’s forehead. “Also, we should order dinner.”

“The viewers like it when I torture myself,” Mark said, and he sat up, stretching, his back cracking. 

Jack winced - that was _not_ a healthy noise.

“Well, yeah, but they’re internet people,” said Jack, his tone dismissive. “They’re all a bunch of weirdo sadists.”

Mark snorted.

“You’re kinkshaming a bunch of internet randos while your boyfriend is getting a boner over ordering dinner?”

Mark got his laptop, making his way towards the bedroom, where he’d left his laptop. 

“Well, yeah,” Jack called, “but your weird kinky thing results in stuff like charitable donations and shit.”

“Hmm?” Mark came back with his laptop.

“You give a lot of money to charities and stuff like that,” said Jack, running his fingers through his hair. 

“You think that’s related to my weird fetish thing?” Mark raised an eyebrow. 

“I mean,” Jack said, “you’re into the weird giving people presents thing, and the whole giving your money. Maybe you don’t get, like, a boner from it -”

“I don’t get a boner over Toys for Tots,” Mark said, his tone on this side of outraged.

“I never said you did,’ Jack said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “I’m just saying that maybe you’ve got a thing about giving money and how it makes you feel good, whether it’s, like, a sexy good, or if it’s just that nice do gooder glow that we all get from… doing good.”

“You know,” Mark said slowly, and he rubbed the back of his neck, the bright computer monitor shining across his face, turning it a ghostly white, “I never thought about that.”

“No?” 

“No,” said Mark. “I guess because they elicit such… different sensations, you know?”

“I think I’m just gonna have to take your word for it,” said Jack, and he laughed.

“Are we ever going to talk about _your_ fetishes?” Mark raised an eyebrow. 

Jack laughed, blushing.

“I’m boring, “ he told Mark, and he beckoned for the laptop. “Give it here. I’m starving!” 

"I don't think you're boring," Mark said, the very picture of loyalty. 

Jack laughed, and he kissed Mark, because what else was he supposed to do, when Mark was looking that sweet?

* * *

"Could I ask for something weird?" 

It was a week later, and Mark was looking anxiously at Jack, across the kitchen table.

"Weirder than you wanting me to spend all your money?" 

Jack was... sort of enjoying it. It took some getting used to - he'd bought three new Rick and Morty t-shirts, and a new mic. 

Mark always looked excited when Jack brought this stuff up. 

"Yeah," said Mark. "I... I'd like you to be mean. If you have it in you, I mean. To be mean."

"What kind of mean?" Jack took a bite of his oatmeal, then reached for the cinnamon, which was still sitting on the table. 

"Well," said Mark, "maybe being more... domineering. Spending my money on things that you want, whether I like it or not. Maybe... making fun of me. Calling me mean stuff like a human ATM, or a pay pig, stuff like that."

"I'm not comfortable with that kinda stuff," said Jack. "Not the being mean - I'm okay with being mean. But I don't like the "human ATM" business."

"Of course," Mark said quickly. "I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with."

"I know," said Jack. "You're not a douchebag."

"But it'd be fun if you were one. Sometimes, I mean." Mark looked nervous, like he was expecting Jack to start yelling at him. 

"I get ya," said Jack. "I'll work on it."

"You're the best, you know that?" Mark was looking at Jack with so much tenderness, and it was making something in Jack's chest seize up.

How had he gotten so _lucky_? 

Never mind the money stuff, but to have someone who looked at him like that, on a semi-regular basis?

* * *

"The thing I ordered came in," Jack said, a few days later, when Mark walked into the kitchen holding a box. 

It was from Amazon.

"What did you order?" Mark was visibly perking up, and he put the box down on the table, carefully. 

"You'll see," Jack said cheerfully, and he tore the box open, the tape ripping like paper, loud in the small kitchen. 

It was a pair of boots.

A pair of bright green combat boots, and Jack was grinning widely when he took them out. 

"Wow," said Mark, and he looked mildly impressed. "You bought... shoes?"

"Not just any shoes," Jack corrected, and he grinned. " _Green_ shoes!" 

"Why green?"

"Gotta stay on brand," Jack said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Also, you know, I like green."

"You're gonna look so matching," said Mark, but he sounded amused.

"Well, you asked me to spend your money," said Jack, "on things that aren't rice cookers."

"Well, yeah," said Mark, "but I thought maybe it'd be something more... sexy."

"You want sexy?" Jack sat up straight. "I can... I can make these sexy."

Mark looked skeptical. 

"Put them on me," Jack said, in a commanding voice.

Mark blushed, but got down on his knees.

"Do you... do you want me to... what do you want me to do?" Mark looked up at Jack, his brown eyes wide.

"I want you to put the boots on me," said Jack. 

He stuck his foot out, somewhat imperious. 

Mark looked like he was trying not to start laughing, as he carefully loosened the shoelaces, then pulled the tongue out. He slid the shoe onto Jack's foot, and there was some wriggling as Jack slid his heel into it, but then his foot was fully seated. 

He stared down at Mark, and something like power was going through him, some kind of power that was... well, it was new. 

"Lace it up," said Jack, and his voice wasn't even shaking. 

"Hm?" 

"My boot. Lace it up."

"How do I lace it up?" 

"... like a boot?" Jack said, nonplussed.

"Well, no, okay," said Mark. "There are different ways of lacing a boot, okay?" 

"... oh," said Jack. "I didn't know that."

"Do you want me to just lace it up like a boot?"

"I mean," Jack said, "this ain't gonna do much walking."

"What's it for, then?"

"You'll see," said Jack, although now he was a bit stuck as to what he was going to do.

He'd been looking up this kind of thing on the internet, although it had been hard to filter out the frankly gross stuff from whatever was useful.

Jack was pretty sure that Mark didn't wanna be called a faggot, or have his cock made fun of.

So it was all building up a bit. 

"Now the other one," said Jack, and he held the other foot out.

"Do you want me to call you sir?" Mark cleared his throat. 

"No," said Jack. "That'd be weird."

"Well," said Mark, "what would you like me to call you?"

"You're my good boy," said Jack, and he ruffled Mark's hair. "You're mine." 

Mark squirmed. 

"Am I?"

"You are," said Jack. "You're... you give me money. I'm... you're... I mean...."

"You okay?" Mark raised an eyebrow. "What's up?" 

"I'm having trouble thinking of what to call you that's not, like, insulting or whatever."

"Because you don't like shit like pay pig or human ATM, right?"

"Right."

"Well," said Mark, "you can be my person, regardless."

"I'm glad," Jack said, and he blushed. 

Then he prodded Mark in the chest.

"Do you want me to be mean to you?"

"You can be mean to me," said Mark. "I mean, uh, if you want to."

"What kind of mean?"

"Like... making me do things that are embarrassing."

"What kind of embarrassing?"

"I trust you," said Mark, and he was giving Jack such a sweet look that a bit of Jack's heart just broke, right then and there.

"Thank you," said Jack, and it felt a bit... awkward, but that kind of sincerity is always kind of awkward, for all parties involved.

"So...," said Jack, after almost a minute of silence, "are you ready to put on my other boot?"

"What? Oh! Right!" 

He put it on Jack’s foot, and he tied the laces carefully. 

“Now,” said Jack, and he cleared his throat, nervous. “Now… you want… that is, do you like my new boots?”

“Yeah,” said Mark, his voice dry. He licked his lips. “They’re… very nice.”

“I don’t believe you,” said Jack. “You should prove it.”

“Prove it?” Mark raised an eyebrow. 

Jack lifted his foot up, and he nudged at Mark’s cheek with his toe. 

“Kiss the boot,” he told Mark. 

“... oh,” said Mark, licking his lips.

He kissed the boot.

Jack shoved more of the toe into Mark’s mouth, making Mark suck on it. 

Mark did, beginning to drool down his chin, and his drool got all over the shiny leather of the boot.

It really was a bright green.

“Good boy,” said Jack, in what he hoped was a sexy voice. “You… your money paid for these boots. Aren’t they great?”

He moved his foot, and then he brought the sole of it right up against Mark’s cheek, pressing down on it. 

“Oh,” Mark mumbled, and he leaned into the pressure. 

“I asked you a question,” Jack said, his tone sharp, and Mark almost… winced, which was a bit terrifying, because that wasn’t what Jack wanted at all! 

“I said, aren’t they great?”

“Yeah,” said Mark. “They’re… excellent.”

He brought a hand up, and he was cradling Jack’s foot, weighing Jack’s foot in his hand - taking the heavy weight in his hand, rubbing his fingers along the shiny fabric. 

“Kiss them,” said Jack. 

Mark kissed the tip of the boot.

“Good boy,” said Jack, and he stood up, nudging at Mark’s side with his foot. “Lie down.”

“Here on the floor?”

“I can’t step on you if you’re on the table,” Jack pointed out.

“... oh,” said Mark, and he blushed. 

He lay out flat, and Jack walked around Mark, nudging Mark’s thigh with the tip of his boot.

“Why are you stepping on me?” Mark stayed flat on his back, his hands on his chest. 

“Because I want to,” said Jack. “Because you give me money, and I can use the money, and I want you to know what the money is used for, so I can use it on you.”

“Does that count?” Mark sounded worried. “I mean, if you’re using my money to buy stuff to use on me?”

“You want me to use the money,” Jack said. “Anyway,” he added, after a minute, “it’s your fetish. Wouldn’t you be the best judge of that?” 

Mark shrugged, looking embarrassed.

“I’ve never really done this kind of thing before,” said Mark. 

“Me neither, if that helps?” Jack crouched down. “Do you want me to keep at it?”

“Maybe you could step on my face?”

“What, like, actually step on it?”

Jack wasn’t expecting that.

“I looked some stuff up, the way this stuff sometimes goes, and I don’t like all the… demeaning stuff, you know, but I know I like when you lie on top of me, so maybe you stepping on me might be fun?”

“But your face?”

“You wanna try on something else?” 

“How about I try stepping on your thighs?”

“I’d be willing to try that.”

“I’m sorry I’m not as mean as you want me to be,” said Jack, as he carefully came closer, putting his foot on Mark’s thigh and resting some weight on it.

Mark groaned.

“It’s… it’s okay,” said Mark, his voice thick. “I don’t think you’d be good at that… Alpha financial dominant bullshit anyway.”

“What, because I’m short and skinny?” Jack extended both arms carefully, and he rested his weight on Mark’s thigh with his brand new boots.

“Oh my god,” Mark groaned, and his eyes squeezed shut, his breath coming in deep pants. “Fuck, Jack….”

“Hmm?” Jack stepped on Mark’s other thigh, digging his heel in.

“Oh!”

“Do you like that I hurt you with these?” Jack kept his voice calm, casual. 

“I think so,” said Mark.

“You like it when I hurt you with the things you bought for me?” Jack stepped on Mark’s other thigh, and he was balancing, awkwardly, trying not to fall off. 

“Yes,” Mark mumbled, and he was almost sobbing. 

“I’m gonna… buy more stuff,” Jack said, and he began to dig his heel in harder, feeling the muscle seperate, ever so slightly. 

“What kinda stuff are you gonna buy?” Mark’s voice had a desperate tone.

Jack stepped down, and then he sat down, and pressed his foot between Mark’s legs.

“Tell me why you wanna know?”

“What do you mean?” Mark whined, as the toe of Jack’s boot pressed against the head of his cock. 

Mark moaned, and Jack pressed a little harder, carefully.

Didn’t want to do damage.

“Why do you want me to use your money?” 

He’d been wondering it himself - he’d read up on the origins of the financial domination kink, which was weird in and of itself, but the way Mark was into it seemed… different from how Jack saw it played out online as well.

“Because… I want you to be happy.” 

“You know I could be happy without you spending any money on me, right? If you were broke I’d still wanna fuck you and hang out with you.”

He pressed a bit harder, grinding like he’d been grinding on Mark’s thigh.

Mark moaned like he was in pain, and he kept grinding, humping into the sole of the boot. 

“I know,” said Mark. “But I’ve got all these… resources, and I want to make you as happy as I can.”

“I think I understand,” Jack said, slowly, carefully, and he kept grinding. 

Mark was getting harder, swelling up.

“Tell me what you want,” said Jack. 

“I want you to make me cum,” said Mark. “I want to… I want to hump your foot and I want to hear how you’re gonna use my money, and I want to know how good it’s gonna feel for you.”

“I’ve got an idea,” said Jack, and he smirked.

“Will you tell me?”

“You’ll find out,” said Jack, “when you suck my dick.”

“Yeah?” Mark licked his lips, and he held on to Jack’s ankle, humping harder.

“I’m gonna.. I’m gonna tell you,” said Jack, and he ground forward. 

“Yeah?” Mark’s hips moved faster.

“I’m gonna build a new computer,” said Jack. 

“Oh!” 

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna go on Amazon, and I’m gonna search for all of those fancy, fancy parts,” said Jack, and then he rattled a few names off, the most expensive ones he could think of. 

Half of them were utter shit, but that wasn’t the point, either.

“Give me… prices, please?”

So Jack rattled off numbers, off the top of his head, using the same tone he used for dirty talk, and Mark moaned. 

“Please,” Mark said, and he was _begging_ now, full on begging. “Please, please, I’m gonna cum, please!”

“I’m gonna do it all,” said Jack, and he pressed down extra hard.

And then Mark came, right in his pants, shaking and shuddering, and then he was flat, panting, shaking, shivering.

“Fuck,” said Mark. 

Jack laughed, nudging Mark’s thigh with a boot.

“Could you help me get these off, please?”

“Hmm?”

“My feet are dying here,” said Jack, and he wriggled his toes.

“So you bought them for no reason other than to look sexy?”

“Well, no,” said Jack. “They’ll be great. When it’s not _summer_.”

“... fair enough.” Mark licked his lips. “So when are you gonna order all of those computer parts?” 

“I’m not gonna order _those_ ,” Jack said, dismissive. “I’d use, like, actually good ones.”

“Oh my god, Jack,” Mark mumbled, and then he started laughing. “Were you dirty talking me?”

“Something like that,” Jack said, and he was laughing too. 

“Well,” said Mark, “I appreciate that you can help me with this shit. And you have at least figured out some of what it is that gets me off about this stuff.”

“You have a weird love language,” said Jack, and he giggled. 

“Is that what they call it these days?”

“What they call what?”

“Fetishes.”

Jack snorted, then began to laugh, really laugh.

“Sure,” said Jack, when he could finally speak. “Now why don’t you come speak _my_ love language and gimme a blow job?”

“How is that a love language?”

“I’d love it if you did?”

Mark was laughing, as Jack unbuttoned his pants.

Okay.

So this wasn’t the usual. 

But Mark’s hot, wet mouth was more than worth it. 

To say nothing of his company.

Or the new computer that Jack was going to build.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic? 
> 
> Check out my tumblr! 
> 
> theseusinthemaze.tumblr.com


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